Grounded
by Rusting Roses
Summary: Sarah Jane Smith and the Doctor met once more, it is true- but the Doctor came away the more changed, and that is what really matters. Tag to School Reunion.


This is a short and hopefully sweet piece inspired by the Doctor Who episode "School Reunion", because it really shows what it means to be a Companion to the illustrious Doctor. So, sit back, kick off your shoes, and enjoy…

**Grounded**

--------------------

**Grounded: ****Something that serves as a foundation or means of attachment for something else**

For a long time, I had forgotten.

I had forgotten things no other creature had ever been exposed too, forgotten more than others will even learn in their lifetimes, forgotten so much, too much. I am the last of the Time Lords- but sometimes I even forgot that.

Of course, my only excuse is that it was the easiest way. Enough has been stolen from me that even little things that shouldn't hurt (like goodbyes) did.

Most importantly, though, I had forgotten what it meant for a Time Lord to keep a Companion. As far as I can remember, few enough Time Lords did it. The reason? Well, what I said to Rose was true. How can someone be asked to live their entire lives knowing the one they're living with will become faded, wither, and eventually die? I'd seen the tail end of some of those relationships, a dim warning that rang in the back of my mind.

So yes, it was easier not to remember, no matter what the consequences, but believe me when I say Sarah Jane Smith's face- hurt, accusing- will haunt me for a while to come.

I wanted to demand of her, "What do you want me to do? Go back? _Come _back for you? Change your life and drag you off, when I saw you nurse aches you didn't have before, squint at things when your eyesight went, wrinkles at the corner of your eyes while I stood beside you without even bruises to identify with you? _You _hurt _me _and _I couldn't do it anymore_!"

And I will probably do the same to Rose as I've done before.

I'm not all knowing, though I seem to be, and that frightens me more because I don't know what to do. And how could I? No guidance, just wild, rebellious fun, like a teenager drinking because he's told not too. I now wish I knew what has happened to my many Companions, whether they were with me for years or a few moments, because I realize now I've dealt them a blow, abandoning more than my fair share to the ravages of time, to carelessness, to idle replacement.

They deserve more, but I can't even give them that.

When I was offered the chance to become a so-called "God" I almost took it. Almost leaped at it, consequences damned, ready to fight tooth and nail to get back what _I'd _lost, ready to forget what I owed others. Ready to rediscover all of who I was and what I was. I felt more like a possessed demon than someone who had experienced so much that they couldn't help but gain some glimmerings of wisdom.

I had forgotten though, forgotten something that led to the slow lockdown and loss of memory, truth, and everything else. I had forgotten that a Companion did not travel with me because it was fun. I didn't do it as a game (though it seemed that way often enough) nor as a cheap parlor trick meant to entertain on a large and lasting scale.

A Companion travels with me to keep me grounded. To keep me sane, to keep me with mercy, to keep me with laughter and love and all the things that would have sent me to my death if I didn't have them in such copious amounts. I keep them with me because I'd kill myself, agonizing over things better left lost or untouched by my interference. An entire race would die out with me, and I wouldn't have even cared, had it not been for my Companions.

So as I offered Sarah Jane a last trip, I saw better than anyone what she was going through. I was awakened again, awakened to consequences and grounded firmly to the world once more. I took no offense at her decline, because I no longer had that right.

Of course, I did leave her K-9 (I couldn't bear to be _that _heartless) because Sarah Jane deserves to be able to have a tangible reminder of what was, because we were friends. Are friends. Hopefully now she'll be free to move on.

But I paused for a second at the door of the TARDIS, the weight of my Companions settling slowly and gently on my shoulders, and offered the only consolation that I could offer to the rest of my Companions from the beginning of time itself.

Goodbye.

--------------------

The End


End file.
